*Jeju night 2*

(Y/N's POV)

If there's anything you took away from yesterday's War of Hormones episode, it's that Jungkook stomps around like a little kid when his temper is out of control.

"Guys! Guys!" Namjoon nearly somersaults over the couch when charging into the common area.

Yoongi and Jin, the hosts of this mid-day hangout, thrash sharp daggers of discipline at the red-faced and huffing boy. Jin's lips rip apart, pumped with fiery words but Namjoon steals the spotlight.

"Big news! I just got a call from Park Seoyoung's assistant, we're invited!"

Hoseok practically sky-rockets out of his newly bought Nike's with his mouth permanently frozen in an o. "No way! She invited us?"

Namjoon nods. "Yeah. The theme is masquerade, so we need to go purchase our outfits." His gaze shifts to his wristwatch. "Like right now."

A party with one of Korea's most acclaimed painters?

Not to mention one of the most prestigious?

Heat tingles your visage as a swarm of butterflies bat around your stomach, ramped with anticipation for the night.

❥

"Everyone, let's meet back at this spot by 3. No later okay?" Namjoon lowers his hat, Hoseok resting his hand on the assertive leader's shoulder.

"Hey! Wait for me you assholes!" Seokjin plows through the remaining crowd and chases after the two who abandoned him.

Jimin exchanges glances with Taehyung, snuffing out any lingering chance of a shopping trip featuring all four of you. Taehyung smirks, "Sorry, I don't want other honeys checking out Jiminie's backside."

Jimin's cheeks flush red and he instinctively covers his backside. "You're such a pervert!"

"Be thankful it's just me and not Jungkook." Taehyung slaps the back of Jimin's fuzzy blonde head and strolls off.

You spin around and muster an exhausted smile, "Just me and you huh?"

"Well when you say it that way..."

Something insides go all rollercoaster-fuzzy-like when Yoongi's almond eyes caress yours. His fingers grab at a tuft of his jasmine hair, twirling it between them. Soon, his gentle smile graces his face.

"Sounds like fun!"

"Oh, where's-"

"Jungkook and Minhee?" he sighs, reading you like an open book, "They left a while ago. No point in waiting around for them, right?"

"Makes sense." Your tone brushes off as semi-conflicted.

An afternoon without fretting over Jungkook, the walking nuclear bomb of unpredictability? Score!

Yoongi flinches as your fingers nip at the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Let's go get you a kickass suit Yoongi."

"Not until we get you a kickass dress first, mademoiselle."

A strange thumping progresses to a thundering crescendo as Yoongi envelopes your hand within his, stooping down to satirical bow and planting a kiss on your knuckle. As his lips zip away, the apples of your cheeks fire up a lurid rouge.

"Did you just use french on me?"

He chuckles and spins around, swaying with the elegance matched solely by a broadway singer. "Maybe. It's my magic trick."

The whole absurdity of his little dance makes you speed up your strides.

"Hey don't leave me behind!"

The eerily accurate mental sketch of his dangerously cute pout begins to formulate. Uh oh. If you spin around and look him in the eye it's game over.

"It's got charm, I'll give you that Mr. Magician."

After a few more minutes of playful teasing and window-shopping, the two of you enter a fairly decked-up department store - simply put, well out of your paycheck. After scanning the isles and scooping a rack of suits onto his forearm, Yoongi meets you by the change rooms.

His eyes twinkle. "You've looked like you've seen a ghost!"

That's because your wallet's a ghost town.

And it's entirely that kidults fault for not paying you out of pure petty!

Your lips stretch to an uncomfortable grin, and out of options, you slap the nape of Yoongi's neck. "If you don't shut up, you're seeing the ghosts next! Go get changed."

His posture straightens and he waltzes into a vacant slot with an adorably goofy grin. Meanwhile, you're figuring out how you're going to get out of this mess without having to beg Jungkook for an advance on pay in front of Yoongi.

Ha. You're screwed...

While the depressing conclusion of your fate draws near, there's a slight clicking of metal.

"So, what do you think?"

Your head falls back.

Big mistake.

The black velvet of his blazer strikes out with a bold impression, swirling with his lilac and ebony crescent patterned undershirt. He reaches for the cuffs, adjusting each one minimally and then refocuses towards the frilly, linen ruff circling his neck.

You can't help but stare like a class level ten idiot.

His shoulders... They're broader and abundantly more well-defined than you recall. Not to mention, he really towers over you now. Could it be the radiating confidence?

The self-conscious observations make your cheeks burn. "It looks great!"

He spins around and faces the mirror with a hand dropped in his pocket. "You mean good as in 'good enough' or good as in I'll steal someone's heart?"

Beatbox-like booms thrum in your chest.

Steal someone's heart?

"I'll leave that up to you." you squeak.

As much as your response makes you cringe, it's satisfactory for Yoongi. He hops down from the round platform and extends his arm toward your side, princely. Slowly, the smile itching his lips drifts away.

"Where's your dress?"

Shoot! You didn't think he'd notice.

"I put it back."

His head droops, "That's disappointing. I picked it just for you."

Waving your hand in complete guilt, "That's because I have clothes at home that Jin bought. It's fine Yoongi, really!" you carp.

The obtuse remark does something odd however. It makes the corners of his shiny mouth perk and an infinitesimal chuckle climb his throat.

Yoongi raises his chin, "You realize those were all Jin's ex's clothes right?" then a sense of victory triumphs his charmed expression. "Huh. Guess he never told you."

"No?"

"Figures. I think he was gonna burn them but I guess meeting you changed his mind."

Maybe he's satisfied with watching your current confusion spell, but his solemn and ambiguous expression doesn't budge; it's like he's closed a mental door.

"Fine, I'll get a dress." you sigh.

He cracks a smile. "That's what I like to hear. So, pick whatever you want, it's on me."

"But-!"

"No buts!"

Your insides twist up as his finger lands on your plush lips, red gloss staining the tip when it retracts. You gulp.

"Okay."

His gentle eyes shrivel up and he ushers you into the nearby change room. Clinging to the hook is a burgundy gown, lace ebony flowers and weaving down the length of the sheer sleeve. You press the dress against your body, the cold, glossy fabric glazing your feverish skin.

Seems like the right size.

Hurling a stretched sigh, you spread the flair and weave through an abundance of ruby silk underlining, popping your arms out through the top and sledding them down their respective sleeves. Once making a few adjustments, the resulting reflection in the mirror makes your stomach crawl.

And for a second you forget how to breathe.

Wow.

Even you have to admit you look good.

A reminding chill whispers along the base of your bare back. Right... The zipper.

You reach for the closing device and successfully drag its metal teeth halfway up your spine, that is until the apparatus clutches the inside fabric and stays in place like concrete. If it was any other dress you'd hulk it out but with the price tag attached to it, you're not risking a rip.

"Yoongi."

"Yeah?" His voice is attentive and sweet like a lullaby.

"Can you... come in for a second?" you press your eyes shut when enunciating the last segment. The butterflies in your stomach flutter in spurs.

What is wrong with you?

"Sure. Just a sec."

There's some brief shuffling; probably him tucking his phone back into his pocket. His minimal footsteps progress to greater volume as he approaches the curtain.

"Is it okay for me to open it?"

You hum.

With your permission, Yoongi drags the curtain back enough to embrace his slender frame. There's a rough silence accompanied by his steady breath.

"The zipper." you mutter.

"Oh yeah, I gotchu."

Your fingers, clutched around the rim of the dress, circle to the front and tug upward slightly to assure no accidental flashing.

You anticipate his touch.

(Yoongi's POV)

Dammit! Why can't my hands move?

I'm just fixing a zipper, no need to get antsy.

Even so, my gaze can't help but admire the long stretch of exposed skin framed by the back of the dress. It's the most she's ever shown...

Then unease manifests within the pit of my stomach. If I'm seeing her this way, won't other guys stare at her like this too? Other men.

"Is something wrong?" she mumbles, swinging her head back slightly.

Crap.

She can't see me this way.

Instinctively my hand flies to my face and I burst with laughter, "No. It's just being a bit stubborn. One second."

I clutch the zipper and rake the fabric away from its grip, then pull it up her back slowly, each progressive click tightening the dress.

I swallow a hard lump when finished.

She beams brightly at me through her reflection, "Thanks!"

I lower my head and return a knowing hum. "No problem. I'll see you at the register." My normally long, elegant strides transform into a shameful scurry. My chest constricts. The ominous thumping of my heart accelerates down a slippery slope.

How much longer can I resist this?

❥

(Y/N's POV)

Jin sighs, "Y/N hurry! The taxi's here!"

"You heard him! We already gave you an hour!" A steely and gravelly voice, easily recognizable as Taehyung's, joins in on the teasing.

"Coming!" You quip back, applying light jewelry and spritzing perfume as you rush down the stairs to the entrance.

The entourage turns back to you glassy eyed. Hoseok is first to shatter the silence, springing up to his feet and slipping a sharp, surprised shout before trapping you within his bear hug.

"Woah is that you Y/N?" Jimin coos delicately, nonetheless astonished.

"Nah, I was kidnapped by aliens." you press with the little breath you have from Hoseok's muscular embrace. If you die, at least your last breath will be well spent on sarcasm.

Taehyung bubbles and shoves his camera into Namjoon's grasp. "Hyung, quick! Take a picture!"

With a soft chuckle, Namjoon staggers off and returns promptly with a tripod. He tiptoes around the circular base while tuning the camera in position. A digital 10 flashes along the screen and Namjoon rushes in to join the group.

Only now it dawns on you that you're ironically placed between Yoongi and Jungkook.

"Say cheese!" Jin chimes in an elementary teacher-like tone as though it would make this nightmare of awkwardness end.

You urge your cheeks to a torturous smile and brace for a flash.

A sparkle of touch hovers your hip, prompting your eyes to narrow to the width of sewing needles, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" you seize the troublemaker's wrist.

Jungkook doesn't care much for your whispered protest though, murmuring, "Playing boyfriend like usual."

You scoff.

Thankfully, before he can quip back, the camera's flash permeates the entrance and flickers away before the drop of a pin. Most of the boys gather around the apparatus and clowning of photogenic appearances begin.

You clench your fist and rip it from Jungkook's grasp.

"This is a warning," you start firmly, "I still have my story to break. Test me again and I'll sure as hell throw you to the media dogs."

You watch, simultaneously amused and guilty as the arrogant colour drips from his features. His plush lips flip open, probably charging up to hurl insults back, when Jin taps your shoulder.

"Taxi's here. We don't wanna be late."

Nuclear war averted.

Though you aren't sure for how long.

❥

Dizzying lights, bone-shivering base pounding through the floor, melodies slapping the rhythm - this party is nothing short of a formal-intimate hybrid club. Just the right amount of classy to not feel out of place.

"This place is huge!" Taehyung swoons over the architecture.

Namjoon grins, resting his hand on his buddy's shoulder. "Maybe if we all save up our salary we can buy something just as big."

Taehyung snickers, "Finally! I'm sick of smelling Jungkook's stinky socks."

"Hey-!"

Jungkook and Taehyung's momentary bickering is cut off by a sweet female voice, "Oh! You guys are here?"

As if choreographed, the gang all spins around toward the progressing click-clacks of heels. The sapphire blue shimmer of her dress catches the light in the just the right way that commands the presence of every warm body in the room. She stops in front of you, twisting the hair dangling down her back and drapes it along her shoulder.

"Hey guys," if cupid's bow were to belong to someone, her smile would have it. "Thank you so much for coming! You all look great!"

Namjoon assumes his position of leader and steps up, shaking her hand. "No, the pleasure's ours. Thanks again for inviting us! And congratulations on your latest art piece, Ms. Seoyoung."

You then realize she must be Kim Seoyoung; the hostess of the party.

"Thank you!" she chuckles, bemused. Then her god-painted eyes fall to your general vicinity. "Oh, and who are these two?"

"Ah, this is Y/N." Hoseok chirps, glazing his hand on your shoulder. "And this is my sister, Minhee."

"We're both twenty-two."

"Oh my sister's the same age! I would introduce her if she were around but..." Seoyoung offers a sheepish grin, "With all the people here, she's pretty much a drop in the ocean."

The others nod considerately which prompts Seoyoung to clap her hands together.

"You'll know her when you see her! She has black glasses and long hair - looks like me on a day off." Seoyoung hums, "Anyway, I don't wanna hold you back from the party! Nice catching up and meeting you all! Enjoy yourselves!"

When the group chatter resumes and Seoyuong's silhouette watlzes past the nearest crowd, you lean into Yoongi, whispering, "Catching up?"

"She knows us from debut. For a while we considered commissioning her art for an album cover."

Content with his explanation, you wrap your arm around his elbow and distribute some of your weight on him. His raven pearls rumble as though succumbing the aftermath of an earthquake of shock, then loosen.

You teasingly tousle some of his mint locks. "So, where should we go first?"

"Let's see..." He scans the flooded dance floor and almost instantaneously cringes when Hoseok waves him over. Yoongi freezes and the thin line held by his lips nearly drops some expletives. "Maybe if we pretend Hoseok didn't see us we can-"

"Nope. Too late for that."

"Frick!"

You hold your breath. "Here he comes."

Now invading your antisocial bubble after squeezing his way through the dance floor, Hoseok places his hands on both you and Yoongi's shoulders, eyes curving into crescents. "You two need to loosen up and dance!"

Yoongi sighs, "We don't really have a choice huh?"

"Ha, no."

Before any more protests pass through his ears, Hoseok grabs both your wrists and whisks you off to a semi-secluded corner of the dance floor where you rendezvous with the others.

Excitement permeates throughout Jin's smiles, "Finally! Y/N and grumpy Yoongi are here!" he jumps, circling arm around your shoulders.

Taehyung and Jimin pounce on the balls of their feet as the bass pulses through the blood. Both grin ear to ear and synchronize with some of Hoseok's movements. By the next song you're in on their dance cult too.

The beat pulses through the hot air and layers the surface of your skin. Normally it's not the best feeling but tonight you're enjoying it - clutching for this chance to earn back some freedom.

For once, devouring the moment without fretting over contractual 'what ifs?'.

Finally, this is a chance to orient your own craving for companionship; for friends.

As you sway to the music, your spine tingles when tagged with a familiar gaze. You shift your attention to the mint-haired perpetrator and the tips of your mouth naturally curve. Yoongi stumbles forward when you seize his wrist.

"Let's dance!"

Reluctantly, Yoongi follows your lead to the centre of the crowd, his palms hovering over shoulders. You sigh, "Not like that."

"Then what?" he whispers.

Your fingertips dust the rounds of his palm, slithering up his hand and rerouting it to the cusp of your waist. The other you entwine with your free hand.

"Like this." you smile.

"Y/N, you picked the worst partner."

"Why's that?"

His frown transitions into a soft chuckle, "I can't dance. I'm a rapper for a reason you know."

He maintains the shared sway, leading with his right and prepared to transition to his left, when your toes sour in pain.

"Told you."

You shake your head, giggling, "Just because you stepped on my foot, it doesn't make you a bad dancer."

Yoongi exaggerates a wince when you tap the roof of his shoe with your foot.

"See? Now we're even."

He contorts his expression into one of feigned hurt. A freshly-bloomed rose hue decorating his complexion glistens under the blinding lights. "...Touché." His lips rip apart once more, "Y/N, I-"

"Oh look!"

You identify the sharp shrill as Hoseok's.

"Yah!" Jin drags like an astonished ahjussi, flicking off some fluff from his velvet waist jacket. "You two punks look like a married couple."

Reflexively, you and Yoongi immediately trash each other a solid metre away, screeching unanimously, "We're not a married couple!"

Jin waves a dismissive hand, grinning smugly, "Right. Just like how Taehyung isn't Jimin's trash."

When Yoongi's feline gaze meets yours, heat storms your every fiber. There's this simultaneously embarrassed yet amused glint lining his gaze before you turn away.

"I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll be back." you mutter, upping the pace as you stroll off to the bar.

That was close!

Fumbling into the nearest seat, you squeeze your eyes shut and obscure your rud-panged complexion, praying for this nightmarish discomfort to subside. Steady with some deep breaths, the thrums biting your chest nearly drown out as you notice a honey-liquide rimmed liquor slide into view.

When you trace the arm crutched to the glass all the way down to its owner, regret shakes your bones.

"Baby girl," he greets, leaning back in his usual arrogant posture. "A glass might take your mind off things."

Of course, just when things can't get any worse, enter Jeon Jungkook. Heck you'd kill to slap off that damn smug grin of his.

"Don't call me baby girl." you forebode in a growl. "Besides, I don't accept drinks from strangers."

"Yeowch!" Jungkook sucks some air between his teeth, imitating a feigned sting. He then shrugs and downs the shot he suspiciously offered earlier. "Fine. Have it your way then, Your Highness."

"What the hell did you just call me?"

"What?" The living coconut head taunts. "We all know you treat me like peasant scum anyways. Isn't that right, Your Majesty?"

When push comes to shove, screw him and screw his stupid rope of provocation. The muscles in your face screech as you produce an unperturbed smile, despite the growing feelings to punch out some of his pretty teeth.

"Why don't you fuck off Jungkook?"

Jungkook chuckles as that fake grin of yours crumbles into a glare. "I think the look in your eyes says otherwise."

Finally all the frustration catches up with you. Seriously, how the hell can he be so nonchalant? His stupidly fiery brown eyes aren't even narrowed into a glare! The fact that he is so calm and indifferent about your ongoing argument is pissing you right off!

Hoping down your elevated stool, you wag an accusing finger towards him. "Oh please, just go find Minhee. She's all over you anyways."

Just as Jungkook's lips part in a defiant comeback, you spot a familiar head of green prancing through the crowd.

"Yoongi!"

Once spotting your wave, Yoongi makes his way over in long strides, weaving through swarms of women eyeing him down as he passes. Perhaps today was different, maybe it was the cologne, but his presence demands attention.

"Y/N," Yoongi coos with a cavity-giving sugary-sweet tone.

Though the moment of relief doesn't last for very long. Yoongi's eyes press into thin slits and his adorned smile drips. "I see you were with Jungkookie. Am I interrupting something?"

"Nope!" you promptly interject, "I think Jungkook and I are just about done here anyways, hmm?"

Jungkook's head droops. Only an idiot wouldn't know when they are defeated. He scrunches some fabric of his pants in a ball with his fist, and raises his head with a frustrated waver in his eye.

"Yeah, she's all yours now. I'm sure Minhee is looking for me." Though his feathery tone suggests otherwise, you can tell he's practically quaking in his shoes. Jungkook stands and taps Yoongi on the shoulder before parting, "See ya around."

You watch Jungkook's back as he leaves.

It's almost as if he's dejected?

"Y/N?"

"Oh sorry!" you smile sheepishly, releasing your grip from Yoongi's bicep once Jungkook veers out of sight. You sigh, mumbling under your breath, "Thought he'd never leave..."

Not hearing this, Yoongi bends down and his eyes curl kindly. "So is there anything you want to do?"

Your gaze falls to where Jungkook's strides once marked the floor. A certain tightness envelopes you.

"No, not really." You grin uncertainty.

❥

After freshening up in the bathroom for a bit and rinsing the pungence of alcohol from your mouth, you consider your somewhat pathetic reflection.

Sure, your hair is tousled but it's just the right wild. Yeah, sweat dots your skin, but it gives that party glow. Neat and somehow put together on the outside; no wonder why nobody knows you're crumbling on the inside.

You wrap up the self-pity with a hard sigh and march out. Absentmindedly, you make a right down the hall but refute any estranged gaze, as you are too preoccupied with your thoughts.

Jungkook is such an ass.

Heck, if he was an actual ass, he'd put Nicki Minaj to shame.

"Y/N," A familiar voice drowns in the buzzing of the liquor and music.

Speak of the devil.

It takes every ounce of remaining energy to not sucker-punch the owner of the voice when you spin around. You feign a smile.

Jungkook doesn't care all too much for it though and totally ignoring your needle-like glare, drapes his arm around your torso. "Something wrong?"

"Don't touch me."

He chuckles and rakes a playful hiss through his teeth, releasing it in a hushed ahhh. He tilts his head and in a mocking hum says, "Guess you're still mad."

Without a beat, you snap back, "Guess you're still not taking things seriously."

"Ouch."

"Honestly, are you an idiot or can you just not take a hint?" you seethe in disbelief, anger surging through your every syllable. The provocation warrants his troubled gaze to lock with yours. His lips tremble, almost as if itching to say something, but you don't feel like he deserves a say.

You stand firm and jut your chin, "Leave."

The sting of your words slap him like the wind of a blizzard night. His cheeks flare in defiance and his eyes glimmer under the neon light.

"Did you seriously not hear anything? I said leave-!"

The clap of his hand against the wall behind you disconnects your protested yelp. You go through the scenario once, then do a double take. Jungkook lowers himself, face close enough where his hot breath meshes with yours.

"I'm not done with you." He says.

"So you decided to trap me?" You refute his growl, not because you don't want to hear his piece, but just to spite him.

A heavy silence hangs.

A moment passes.

Jungkook's lips wobble and his head crashes.

"I-I... I-"

"Spit it out."

Momentarily, something between a dash of indignation and contrition zip past his expression. He presents a weak smile, his regard never refraining from yours, "I'm sorry okay? Just stop avoiding me like this..."

Your eyes swell. "Me avoiding you? I've only started this today, you started this two weeks ago! Two weeks Jungkook!" Laughter pipes your throat in disbelief. "Don't give me that bullshit. Have you ever considered for a second how I feel?"

As soon as the last sentence flees your mouth, you try to swallow it back.

Crap!

That shouldn't have slipped out.

You suck in a deep breath, dawdling its currant fluttery-eyed. "Just tell me, why are you avoiding me?"

Jungkook visibly tenses at the question. A storm of confusion, disdain and regret strike his frame like thunder, and he clenches his jaw to swallow the uncomfortable pill of pride.

"I... Got jealous."

"Is that so?" you snicker.

"Stop it. I'm serious here."

"I know but you, the Jeon Jungkook, jealous of me? Doesn't it seem a bit ironic?"

"Shut up!" He grumbles with cold fists.

"Not a chance, bunny." You taunt brushing under his chin with your finger. Laughter flows from your lips in pouring steam. Only, the realization soon daunts on you that this mockery is a big mistake.

His pecan eyes now glisten in midnight anger. His hand which was once on the wall, makes a swipe at your wrist and captures it with shackle-like strength. Next, the sight of his face vanishes and his warmth permeates through you.

His sigh drifts down your back.

"J-Jungkook?"

"Don't drop your guard around other guys. They're going to take you from me."

You shiver, trying to steady your rocked balance by leaning into his embrace even more. His arms weave their web tighter; further reeling you in like lost prey. Your mouth dries.

"Please," He crows, "you're killing me."

Just as your lips rip apart to speak, Minhee calls out Jungkook's name in the distance. Jungkook instinctively releases you with panic dominating the communication of his gaze. Minhee calls his name once more, this time closer.

Jungkook smiles wryly, "I have to go." he whispers.

Still in your stunned state, there isn't much you can protest, not even the kiss he plants on your forehead before taking off. And like an idiot, you absorb the sight of his disappearing frame, his cologne fading with it.

Your fingers glaze the spot he'd just kissed.

His touch still lingers...

❥

It's not very far despite its softness.

You've heard it many times throughout the duration of the trip. It's not the usual wimpers of Namjoon's keyboard when he composes. No, it's a thoughtful progression of an acoustic guitar.

A shiver avalanches down your skin as you press your ear against the balcony glass door.

This time you make out a voice.

"That faint voice of yours that grazed me. Please call my name one more time~"

Pressing your hands against the glass, you retract your head, gaze falling at the familiar figure sitting out on the shared balcony. His chestnut hair dances in the moonlit wind and he riffs on.

"I'm standing still under the frozen light, but I will walk towards you, step by step. Still with you."

Within your coerced lull of incognissance, the door gradually slides open; inviting you to bathe under the heat-licking night wind. Making sure to not disturb his practice, you lean against the wall.

"A pitch dark room. I shouldn't get used to it. But I'm used to it again~" A chord strikes out of tune and Jungkook winces, ruffling his hair, "No, that's not right." he mutters.

Then his falls to you and he jumps out of his seat like a cat dumped in water.

"Didn't know you played." you smile, hoping to soothe his shock as you claim the vacant spot beside him.

He chuckles, flaunting his attractive grin for the first time in weeks. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Maybe you're right."

He reaches for the neck of the guitar and rests its groove on his thigh, grinning, "I always am."

"Can't you just take the compliment?"

"No, not really." He muses, restarting the same song he sang before. Your lips can't help but creep upward as you watch him enter the realm of artistry; a world in which creativity grinds the process. He repeats the same section as before and freezes.

Jungkook's brows string together in contemplation as he strums two different chords back to back, as if comparing their texture's fit in his piece. He strikes the first again, humming in approval before jotting something down on his paper.

The piece replays and the improved romantic and melancholic melody encroaches on your thoughts. He tosses you a grin and combs through your expression before the words soar; his delicate voice exactly the same as the first time you'd heard it.

Dangerously sweet.

By now, you've caught up to the general rhythm of the song and hum along. You're clapping along to his lead, "The low-pitched sound of the air conditioner. If I don't have this, I might just fall apart."

Then the music slows.

He glances your way as if searching for answers.

"We laugh together." you hum, meeting his gaze head-on. "We cry together."

His eyes scrunch up in glee and his previous grin sharpens. "These simple feelings were everything I had~"

When he finishes the note, the tempo collapses to a silence and there, in that moment, you know nothing but his renewed gaze. All you can breathe in is the way his sullen beads of pecan command your attention.

"I like the song." you pipe in a ploy to divert some of his thick attention.

It doesn't work.

So you opt to look away.

"Y/N..." He asserts, "I..."

"Hmm?"

You face him, formulating a proximity so intimate that the humidity of his breath now washes over your lips. His hovering forces your back into the seat. It's hot...

Like a firework, a thunderous boom kickstarts the throbbing within your chest, growling for a break as though running a marathon in mid-august heat.

But this is no marathon.

It's just you and him.

His lips sail onto yours as though it were a missing puzzle piece. The fuzzy warmness born from your insides sprints throughout your entirety; as though this is right. You press your eyes shut.

You reciprocate the sucking on your bottom lip, following his lead. He digs a palm into the arm of your chair and wraps his fingers around its circumference for more support. You hook your hand around the back of his neck, gently easing into him.

Jungkook pulls away and pants with a relieved smile.

He's about to re-engage, closing in until you slide your hands down his chest, applying enough pressure to prevent a repetition of the kiss.

His eyes flutter open.

"Jungkook." You sigh, shaking your head, "This is a mistake."

He quakes, whimpering like a wounded puppy, "You're wrong. You know it's not. You kissed me back."

"It doesn't matter, Jungkook. We just can't."

'Why not?"

You turn away, cradling yourself in your own grasp, "The rules." you mutter. It's confusing; as if things weren't complicated enough before... You know what you have to do but why does it feel so self-destructive?

"There is no us. There will never be, Jungkook. I'm just here for the contract - nothing more, nothing less. The deal doesn't come with friends and definitely not boyfriends."

This is the truth, but if so, why does it hurt? Why do these words taste wrong?

You drop your head into your hands. "I'm sorry-"

"It's Minhee isn't it?"

"No..."

"Don't lie to me." Jungkook growls, then his tone crumbles to shaky wail, "You think I'm in love with her, don't you?"

"It's none of my business. I don't care-"

"I'm not!" His cry is desperate but the look in his eyes even more so. "She doesn't mean anything like that! She never did... Minhee is not my first love."

The tension drifts in the darkness like cigarette smoke.

"Everyone can see what's going on, why can't you Y/N?"

Maybe it's outright refusal, maybe it's because guilt consumes you, but you can't look him in the eye. You can't because if you do, you'll prove exactly what he's insinuating.

"I-I'm sorry. Goodnight."

You hate it, the way your voice nearly breaks when saying that. You're out of options; retreating is all that's left. It's a cowardly and humiliating thing but it's the best you can do to process everything.

You plop down in your bed and raise a hand to muffle the ugly sobs that follow.

What did you just do?

(Unknown POV)

A satisfied grin indents the culprits face as they swipe through their newfound collection of rag mag material. The paparazzi will bend backwards just for a single photo.

Everything is according to plan - smoothly and effortlessly. If anything, it's starting to become boring observing from the sidelines.

They power down their phone, sighing.

"If you ever cross me again, it'll be the end of your career Jeon Jungkook." This creeping sense of victory rummages through their body. The sheer fact they know they can cause irreplaceable damage at the push of a button is exhilarating.

"And soon... It'll be the end of you too, Y/N."